


Broken Femurs and Moon Men

by writingandchocolatemilk



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Spies, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, F/M, Spies & Secret Agents, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3847711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There weren’t very many spies in the world. They usually got shot, or captured and tortured, or they fell off of the top of moving trains. Lovino was not a stranger to any of these things—though the train incident was less exciting than it sounded. A broken femur isn’t very fun.</p><p>Lovino was only aware of a few spies that were actively called upon by various government agencies and corporations.<br/>And then there was her.</p><p>Lovino had first seen her bent over a screaming woman. She had been wearing a tradition dress that cut off after the knees. Her long hair was loose, spilling over her shoulders and down her back, adorned with a bow. She was running a blade across the screaming woman’s face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Femurs and Moon Men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MediterraneanTomatoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediterraneanTomatoes/gifts).



There weren’t very many spies in the world. They usually got shot, or captured and tortured, or they fell off of the top of moving trains. Lovino was not a stranger to any of these things—though the train incident was less exciting than it sounded. A broken femur isn’t very fun.

Lovino was only aware of a few spies that were actively called upon by various government agencies and corporations. 

There was the American, who tended to kill more people than seemed necessary. There was the Spaniard, now retired, who was infamous for using torture to extract information. There was the French man, whose powers of seduction were legendary.

And then there was her. 

Lovino had first seen her bent over a screaming woman. She had been wearing a tradition dress that cut off after the knees. Her long hair was loose, spilling over her shoulders and down her back, adorned with a bow. She was running a blade across the screaming woman’s face.

They called her The Scalpel. 

She had admitted to him her name was Natalia. 

It was actually infuriating. Whenever Lovino would enter a country to seek information, she was already there. Lovino had suspected a counter-agency, but Lovino had the disturbing feeling she was just doing this for fun.

One time, he had shot her in the shoulder. She was cornered, the moonlight making her hair shimmer. She gripped her shoulder, arm hanging useless, still clutching her knife. Lovino stood in front of her, blocking the only exit. 

“You know, I’ve always admired your suits.”

Lovino didn’t take his eyes off of her. “They’re a little easier to run in than a dress.”

Her face could have been made of marble. When she spoke, Lovino half expected her cheeks to crack. Backlit by the moonlight, she seemed too small to do the torture she had been doing. The blood that streaked down her dress looked black. 

She looked terrifying.

“Who hired you?” he asked.

She tilted her head. “People who know what you’ve been hired to do.”

God, she was so fast. In an instant she had taken three steps forward, kicking the gun out of his hand. Lovino cursed, trying to give himself room, but she was right on him, slashing with her other hand, eyes impassive. 

He had barely escaped.

Another time, one of the most memorable times, had been when they had been holed up together somewhere in Canada. It was a tiny apartment on the edge of tundra, drafty and bare. There was a sniper camping in the building next door. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Lovino whined, peaking out of the window.

“Don’t be a pussy.”

“When have we _ever_ worked together?” Lovino continued, feeling his face heat up. “We’ve tried to kill one another more than we’ve fucking _worked_ together, Jesus, fucking Mary, and Joseph.” 

Natalia glances at him. “There was that time in Egypt.” 

The apartment was suddenly much too small, and she was much too close. Lovino coughed, adjusting his tie. “Yes,” his voice cracked, “There was Egypt.” 

They had spent a week in that apartment, eyes glued on the other side of the street. More than once, they had to cover one another as they ducked out for more food or supplies. It wasn’t so bad.

The first branches of pink were streaking across the sky. Natalia’s was leaning against the window frame, watching as the sun slowly rose. Lovino watched her, the way her hands were clasped before her, feet together, thoughts whirling. 

“Someone told me once that there was a man trapped in the moon for his sins. I think he stayed there for eons.”

Lovino blinked, unsure if she had actually spoken or not. 

Finally, the sniper gave up his position. Lovino walked away from the apartments, thinking that the screams Natalia could extract from someone was both impressive and attractive. 

Next week, she threw him off the train.

**Author's Note:**

>  **From prompt:** I dunno if you're still doing fic requests, but maybe something like Romano x Belarus?


End file.
